Artistic Differences
by Fortris X
Summary: Seasoned art thief Bella Swan was about to pull off the transaction of a lifetime when she was thwarted at the last second by the most beautiful, arrogant, selfish man she'd ever met. What happens when she has to run from the people who had saved her? Where will she go and who will save her now? B/E. AH. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay this is my very first Twilight story ever! I hope you all enjoy and do not hesitate to review and let me know what you think. Here goes! By the way, Bella is 21 years old in this story! And Edward is 28.**

* * *

I've come to forget what normal life is like. I've been living this ruse, this sham for so long that every semblance of normalcy has ebbed from my brain and all I am left with is this, whatever this may be. In all honestly, I have not been living this life for more than two years, but it seems like my whole life, my entire being has been dedicated to and made for this.

I am standing in front of an elegant mirror in a bathroom at the Four Seasons in downtown Seattle. I cannot bare to look myself in the eyes so I decide to focus on the other aspects of my person: my curled hair, my pouted lips, the cup of my collar bones. Anywhere but my eyes, for I fear if I look straight at them I'll see myself for who I am, and that is not something I am exactly up for now. Or ever, for that matter.

My manicured hands curl around the edges of the pristine porcelain sink until my knuckles turn white and I sigh. I had been standing in this position, in this small, expensive room, for over ten minutes now. I wonder why no one has come to get me yet. I should be happy, really, that life is going so well for us. We're a small group of people, you see, with a quaint career of sorts. Normally, we can't afford such luxuries, but we recently just got a raise, you see.

James, Laurent, and I have been a group working together for a little over a year and a half and I couldn't be more grateful for them. They saved me when I was in a dark place, picked me up and took me in as their own. This does not mean that I like them; in fact, I cannot stand either of them. They frighten me, threaten me when I do wrong. They are by no means kind people.

I suppose that leaves me to explain why I am here and what exactly it is that we do. It's so complicated but at the same time so simple.

We are art thieves.

That's all. We steal paper with paint, or clay molded into special appeasing shapes and we sell them for our own benefit. It's really a simple concept. We work in unison and we split the pay. We travel as a pack.

I've gotten used to doing what I do and am confident in my skills to get the job done, but tonight I am nervous for a number of reasons:

We've been in Seattle far longer than we've been in any city before. About four months to be exact. The longer we nest in one area, the more likely we are to get caught. It's almost like Russian Roulette and I know that if I get caught, James and Laurent will simply leave me. There is no loyalty between us. I have seen them leave a member behind before.

I messed up a major transaction not two weeks back. I was supposed to steal a bust of Helen of Troy from the Seattle Art Museum and almost got caught in the process. In the end, we did not get the bust and I got punished. I made sure to wear extra makeup to cover the ebbing bruise on my eye tonight.

Finally, I'd been assigned to steal _Femme aux Bras Croisés _from the Cullen Art Gallery on their opening night. The painting would only be there for one sole night, and it was my job to steal it. If I messed up again, I know I'd either end up dead or in the streets. Both situations were not ideal.

So here I stand, avoiding my own eyes for fear of self-judgment, waiting for someone to fetch me.

I jumped with a small shriek as I heard a meaty fist slamming on the door. "Look, I get beauty takes time, but we don't have all night!" James' voice echoed from the other side of the door. "We're leaving in five, and if you're not ready…," his ominous warning was enough to get me to open the door.

I stared up at him with a scowl as he stood in the doorway, blocking my path. When he didn't budge, I simply took a step back and crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you going to get out of my way so we can get this over with, or are you going to stand there and stare at me all night?" I snapped, cocking an eyebrow.

James shook his head and laughed lowly as he moved out of the way and allowed me to pass by. "Don't be so sour, Bella. It's hardly ever that I get to see you so gussied up. Give a guy a break."

I shut my eyes and exhaled. I could still feel his eyes on me. I knew exactly what he meant, of course; my typical style was jeans and converse, not high heels and four thousand dollar dresses. Right now I must look like a prize in my floor length, one shouldered navy blue dress. I shivered at the thought.

"Let's just go and get this over with," I muttered as I plucked my expanded clutch off the bed and headed to the door. James followed in suit.

"Just remember, sugar, in and out," he purred in my ear. I shivered in disgust and quickly escaped to the hall.

* * *

I sat in the back of an old, silver Mercedes with Laurent and James in the front. Judging from their casual attire, I knew that I'd be doing this deed myself. I did not quite know how I felt about this.

Laurent turned to face me and scowled. "You have two hours, _two_, to get this done. You know what to do, Bella. You've this shit before, it's like your meat and potatoes," he encouraged, but his voice was laced with malice. "Suffice to say, if you fuck this up, you'd better get the hell out of the country before we can find you."

I gulped and nodded, turning my head to look at the building across the street from where we were parked. It was tall and silver, the top of the building faded as I looked up. It was dark out, so the lights illuminated the city sky. I looked back to Laurent and nodded again. "I got it. In and out. Make quick work of it and don't give anyone any time or reason to be suspicious." Suddenly, a question popped into my mind. "How am I getting in?"

This time James spoke up. "We bought a ticket for you, to make it less trouble. You better not fuck it up," he growled. "We spent two thousand on that damn thing, not to mention your dress, in the assumption that you're gonna pull through." He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to me as he placed the ticket stub in my hand. "Got it?"

I took the ticket and nodded once more. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

I shut my eyes and exhaled. "Yes, _sir_."

I could hear the leering smile in his voice as he said, "Good girl. Now go on. We'll be out back all night, so you know where to find us. You remember the plan?" I nodded. "Good. Get out."

And so I stepped out of the car and into the muggy, humid air of Seattle. Without even bothering a glance back, I held my head up straight and walked up to the heavily guarded building. I've done this before. This will be no different than the others.

* * *

After passing through security under the name 'Farrah Winchester,' I made my way up the winding stairs and to the actual gallery on the fourth floor. As I approached the doors that led to the art and ball room, I inhaled and exhaled in order to calm myself. It was just another job. Imagine going into a routine surgery as an honored doctor. That is how I always thought of this. Just like the doctor, I had a good chance of making it out unscathed, but there was always the chance that I don't.

Finally pushing into the main room, I was assaulted by the abuse of the color white. White floors, white walls, white staff uniforms and white wine. I was momentarily blinded. As I looked around, I was pleased to see that I fit in, appearance wise, but felt like an outcast socially. I didn't know how to interact with these trust fund babies. I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth like them. I decided it would be best for me to keep my mouth shut unless someone came up to me first.

As a waiter passed by me with a tray of glasses, I swiped a champagne chute from the tray and chugged half its contents. I needed to relax, and what better way to do so than with a bit of liquid courage? Immediately I began scanning the main room for a door or a hallway that may lead to the piece de résistance; luckily for me, there was only one hallway present in the room. If I could just slip away unnoticed…

"Hello!" I was startled by a voice that came from somewhere beside me. I looked down and noticed a petite, spiky haired girl looking at me with a smile. Next to her, I noticed, was a gorgeous blonde woman who looked less than pleased to be in my presence. I shrank a bit.

"Hi," I greeted back with a tentative smile. My eyes flittered between the blonde and the brunette before finally settling on the darker haired girl. She seemed nicer.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Alice Cullen, and this is Rosalie Hale," she introduced, holding a pixie-like hand out to me.

Hesitantly, I took the proffered hand and shook it as though I feared I'd break it. She seemed so fragile that I actually thought I might. "Nice to meet you both. I'm Farrah Winchester," I lied smoothly with a small nod. My eyes flicked over to the hallway before looking back to the girls before me. I knew I had time to spare, but I really wanted to be done with this task.

Alice's eyes popped with recognition. "Oh! Of the Denver Winchesters?" she asked looking to Rosalie, who suddenly seemed interested in me.

I smiled tightly and shook my head. "I'm afraid not. No, I'm of the Phoenix Winchesters, if you've ever heard of us."

"We haven't," Rosalie drawled with a sneer as she swirled her champagne in hand.

I shrugged my shoulder. "Well, I haven't heard of any Hales from around here, or from anywhere for that matter so I suppose we're even," I said with a little more venom than I had intended. I absolutely despised these rich, pretentious brats. I smiled sardonically.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and looked away. Alice looked embarrassed on her friend's behalf. "Oh, don't mind my sister in law. She can be a little… aloof, at times. She really is sweet when you get to know her."

I nodded, but did not believe Alice for a second. In fact, I pitied Alice for being stuck with this woman for the rest of her life. "Quite alright," I said. "I must be going, though. It's been a pleasure, really."

Before either of them could get another word out, I escaped and melted into the crowd.

* * *

About an hour left before my time was up. I'd been trying all night to get to the hallway, but it was constantly being watched. By guards, by bystanders. There would be witnesses.

It wasn't until everyone's attention was called to the front of the room that there was finally a clearing. As a beautiful blond man began his speech that I zoned out, I made my way through the crowd and into the hall, quickly walking to the door that was surely around the next corner. Before making the turn, I pulled out my pepper spray from my clutch and held my finger to the button.

Just as I had suspected, there were two large guards by the door with laughing faces and portly guts. Now was my chance. Quickly, I turned the corner and sprayed each man in the eyes, kneeing them in the groins. "Evening gentlemen," I said as I pushed past their writing bodies into the room.

There it was, the beautiful blue monochromatic, billion dollar painting. With this, I'd never have to rob again. I could live a normal, happy life, finish school and perhaps get married and have children. This was the key.

To my right was a fire alarm. If I pulled it, everyone would immediately evacuate the building, but that would also mean added security would rush to this room. There was also the factor the two guards outside. How long before they called for back up?

I hurriedly pulled the painting off the walled and unscrewed the frame. Once the frame was unscrewed, I turned to pull the fire alarm but was stopped abruptly by a gun in my face. My heart clenched.

My eyes trailed up the arm to the face of the gun holder and I froze; he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in all my life. He had pale skin, contrasted by bronze hair and green eyes; the greenest eyes I had ever seen. He was tall and lean and beautiful. He wore an expensive suit and tie, which told me that he was no security guard, but instead a guest. I gulped.

"Aha, so this is who you are," he said as he lowered the gun to rest at his side. I was standing still.

"This is who I am?" I questioned, looking behind him for any trace of back up. There was none. He was all alone.

"You, the art thief they've been talking about all over the news. So stealthy they call you the vampire," he said, his face twisted in a sneer. "I figured I'd meet up with you here. I'm disappointed you actually showed, though. I was hoping you were a bit smarter," he said snappishly.

I shrugged. "Wherever the money is, I'll be, I guess."

He bit out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "I have to say, though, I was not at all expecting you to be a woman."

I sneered. "Yea, well I guess that's the misogynist in you."

"I don't really think the feminists want you on their resume, though, sad to say," he snapped back at me. He looked dangerous and he was surely angry. "I could kill you right now and no one would care."

My face dropped. "You're right, no one would. But would you kill me over a piece of paper?"

He seemed to contemplate for a moment, then he nodded as he pointed the gun at me once more. "A piece of paper that costs over a billion dollars? Perhaps."

I squinted my eyes and looked away. "Do whatever you're going to do. I don't care. Call the police, kill me. I'm going to end up dead after tonight anyway."

He seemed to falter, but then he realized he didn't care. "I'm not going to do either. I'm going to let you leave."

My jaw dropped in surprise. "Y-you're what?"

"I'm going to let you go," he said lowly, looking me in the eyes, "so that whoever sent you here could take care of you like the trash you are."

That stung. I shrunk and stepped around him and walked towards the door. "You don't know where you're sending me back to," I pleaded, "I'd rather you call the police."

He looked me dead in the eye. "I know."

* * *

**So? What are your thoughts? Let me know in the review section! See you soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews and follows so far! I hope you keep enjoying the story and leave me with more responses! Hope you enjoy the newest installment! Oh, and please, please, PLEASE, do not hesitate to leave some feedback for me, really. It motivates me to continue and update quicker! Thank you!**

* * *

It had been a month since my life did a total 180. A whole thirty days that I've been on my own for the first time in a long a time and I've been struggling. When I left the gallery on that night, I made sure to leave from the front, for fear of being caught or seen by James or Laurent and I couldn't stand the thought of what they'd do to me when they found out what happened. Luckily for me, I always carried around my credit card with me. It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy some new clothes and a hotel room in the cheapest part of town. At first I was able to live off the card and lie low but now I was running low on cash and desperately needed a job.

So here I am, standing behind the counter of a Starbucks in the swanky part of Seattle, taking orders from the rich and snobby and avoiding the ever present temptation to spit in their drinks. The worst part of it all was I had to take it all with a smile on my face; I couldn't stand fabricating kindness for those who simply don't deserve it, but this is where life took me.

My chipping nails tapped anxiously on the edge of the counter as I bit my lip and held my hand on my hip; we'd just opened the shop two minutes ago and we were awaiting the onslaught of early morning business men. It was the most daunting part of my shift. The business men were always the crankiest, rudest and stingiest of our customers. If we weren't making beverages right before their eyes, I'd be tempted to just spit right in the mixture. Hell, I'm tempted to do so when they're looking!

"So, you excited for our first customer? I know mornings are your absolute favorite, Bella," said Jake, my coworker. He was nice, funny, and tall with dark hair and perfect teeth. Too bad he was only nineteen, and I am just not into younger guys.

I offered him a smile and an eye roll. "Oh, yes. I'm just writhing in my boots out of excitement, you have no idea,' I replied sarcastically as I looked at the clock. Our first costumer, an old man in an expensive suit, always came in at 6:35 a.m. like clockwork. It was currently 6:25 a.m. We had time.

Jake laughed and shook his head. "Think he'll tip us this time?"

I exhaled and shrugged my shoulders, not bothering a glance in Jake's general direction. "He's never left a tip before, I doubt he'll start now. You know, it seems the rich, hoity-toity types tip us less than the average costumer. That's something to think about," I said as I watched the time tick by on the clock. As of right now, only Jake and I were present. Sam and Leah didn't come in until about 7:00, but that's not a problem. It's never busy here before 7:00 anyway. That's when the wave of monsters came in.

"Yea, but have you ever thought that tight pocketing is why they're rich in the first place, and tipping is why the commoners are, well, commoners? Maybe I should take a note out of these guys books, huh?" Jake joked, but I didn't respond. It was too early for playful banter and conversation. I just wanted to get my shift over with, get paid, and go back to my hotel room. I really could not wait until I had enough money to rent an apartment out here. That would be the life.

Jake went into the backroom, muttering something I couldn't hear and shut the door behind him. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair before deciding to wear it up in a messy bun.

From the corner of my eye, I saw someone enter the café, the door swinging shut behind them, but I didn't glance in their direction to see who it was. After all, it was most likely that snobby old guy. Maybe his wife kicked him out of the house earlier than usual. I snorted at the thought.

And suddenly, he was in front of me, wearing a gray pinstriped suit and red tie. His lean chest and tight skinned hands indicated it was not the old man, but someone younger, someone who has never come here during my shift before. I trailed my eyes up to his face and gasped, taking a step back. Coppery bronze hair, moss green eyes, and the sharpest jaw line I had ever seen on a man before. It was _him_. The man who ruined my life.

For a few moments, we just stared at each other. Oddly enough, he did not look the least bit surprised to find me here, which left me stuttering. "W-what can I get you, sir? Today or special is-"

"So it's true," he interrupted as he fixed his right cuff and scanned the menu behind me, "you didn't leave town after all."

I gulped dryly and shook my head. "Apparently not. I'm here, aren't I?" I asked sharply, though my tone was airy and still shocked.

He narrowed his eyes and focused on my. "My sister, Alice, said that she saw you here a few times. Talked about someone named 'Farrah,' but I was quick to figure you out." He shook his head and laughed. I tightened my hands around the counters edge and clenched my jaw. He was mocking me. "I mean, who else could be a millionaire one day, and then wind up working at Starbucks the next? It was only so obvious. Of course, I told her all about you." My stomach sank. Even though I barely knew Alice, I still felt bad for lying to her. Now she must hate me.

I played the indifferent card and shrugged. "Yea, well I wouldn't be working at Starbucks if I hadn't gotten _fired_," I say in code, looking up to him with one raised eyebrow.

He shot a dirty glare at me before rolling his eyes. "Let me finish before you rudely interject your meaningless thoughts," he spat as he placed on languid hand on the counter just two feet from my own. I noticed he hand a small dark beauty mark just below the knuckle of his middle finger. "Alice was so disheartened to hear about your misfortune that she sent me to find you," his voice was laced with distaste. "She thinks you must be living in a cardboard box or something. Thinks you were forced into this life of debauchery. You see, that's the problem with Alice; she always sees the best in people, and one day it's going to get her seriously hurt."

I didn't know where he was going with this, so I just listened on and kept my eyes focused behind him. I seriously hoped that he'd hurry up, because soon customers and witnesses would come in and I'd probably wind up getting arrested, if that was not what was happening now.

"I told her I think you're living pretty damn well. You must have plenty saved up from past _jobs_ and _transactions_. Where are you living now? A penthouse at the Four Seasons?"

I snorted and shook my head. "Do you really think I'd be working here and living at the Four Seasons at the same time? Really? I have absolutely nothing. You left me with_ nothing_," I accused as I crossed my arms. Tears began welling up in my eyes, but I held them back; the last thing I wanted was for him to see just how much he'd hurt me.

He scoffed. "You can't go around blaming other people for your bad choices, Isabella," he said, and for a moment I was disconcerted as to how he knew my name, but then remembered my name tag. "If I do recall correctly, it was you who was trying to _steal_ from me. Best not to forget that, right?" He raised an eyebrow and looked down to me.

"Best not," I ground out, but I knew he was right. However mad I was at him for ruining my life, it was me who was committing the wrong doing. I had no right to be mad with him, yet I could not stop myself from being so. He was just so conceited and arrogant that I could not help but hate him. "Are you going to order, or what? We'll be having costumers soon, and I don't want you holding us up."

He snorted out a laugh. "I'm not here to order anything. I'm here to offer assistance, of sorts," he said with a sneer as though the words tasted foul coming from his mouth.

My brows furrowed together. "You want… to help me? After what I tried to do?" I was so baffled, so confused. I just did not understand what was happening.

"Don't make me change my mind," he warned looking me heavily in the eye. "And don't for one second think I had anything to do with this. Alice is a very… charitable person. She was so dismayed to hear about your misfortune that she is making me lend a hand out to you. Come work for me as a secretary. It has much better pay than here."

I sputtered and looked around for Jake. He was still in the backroom, which told me he was biding his time watching television or playing on his phone. "Wha – no, just no," I replied with the shake of my head. "I don't think I can do that."

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Look, I'm reaching my hand out to you. I never do this for anyone. I don't help people and I certainly don't apologize. I'll give you two days to make your decision. Give this number a call," he handed me a card, "and a car will pick you up and bring you to me. Don't make this into something I'll regret, Isabella," he growled out his warning as he took a step back from the green counter. "I'll see you soon."

As the mysterious man walked out the door, the grumpy old man walked in like clockwork.

As I called Jake from the back, he made the man his usual blend and handed it off. He paid with exact change, and nothing more. As the man left, I finally willed myself to look down to the card.

For the first time, I was able to see the man's name, printed plain as day on the white, eggshell card.

_Edward Cullen_.

* * *

**Okay, I know this was a shorter chapter, but it is obviously a transitional chapter. Moving from the intro of the story to actual the plot. I have a really great plan for this story and I really hope you guys read this and enjoy the plot as much as I enjoy writing it! So, that being said, if you do please favorite, follow, or most of all review! Reviews give me confidence and help me fix what I've done wrong, so please do not hesitate to leave feedback for me in the review section, in fact I highly encourage it! I'll see you lovelies soon! Bye bye now!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for the follows and reviews! I'm glad you are enjoying this as much as I am! I'd also like to mention that later on in the story you will learn how Bella ended up with this life and what happened in between the first two chapters! Here is the next chapter!**

* * *

The next day after my shift, I waved goodbye to Sam, Leah, and Jake and began my trek home. Most people would call a cab, but since I'm keen on saving my money and enjoy the crisp, mid-autumn air of Seattle, I prefer walking. The city often seemed to keep my mind occupied as I made my way back to the hotel I was currently staying at; kept it off other, more unpleasant things. Today was not the case.

As I turned the corner onto the next city block, my thoughts ventured reluctantly to James and Laurent. Where were they right now? Were they still looking for me? While I had not spotted them for almost three weeks now I still had nerves about bumping into them. My mind told me I was worrying too much, that James and Laurent would assume I had up and left Seattle in search of a distant refuge, which is probably why I stayed here in the first place: it would be one of the last places they'd expect me to be.

There was also the factor that their time in Seattle was running extremely, extremely low and they'd need to move on to their next city: Portland. I knew this because I had always been the one to find out next locations on the map, for the two idiots thought it was tedious work. Really? Making a red circle on the map was tedious? Well, I guess that says a lot about them.

Anyway, perhaps the tensest portion of my life occurred in the week after the failed thievery; that was when I was absolutely certain that the bloodhounds would be on my trail. I had found the dingiest little motel on the outskirts of Seattle and squatted there for what seemed like an eternity, fearing that if I went out in public, they'd catch me and do their worst. Whether their worst was killing me or committing some other felony to my person, I was unsure. Either way, I knew it would be in my best interest to keep out of sight.

It was four days after the incident at the Cullen Charity Gallery when it happened. I saw them. I saw the two of them from my window on the second from of the crappy motor inn. They'd somehow managed to track me down to this sole location and were coming to get me. My heart had been beating heavily in my chest as the turned to enter the lobby. With my brow beginning to sweat and my heart rate rising substantially I did what only seemed logical at the time: I pried open the rusted window and climbed out onto the rickety, old fire escape.

As I shut the window behind me, I turned to face the alleyway below and the stench of garbage and humanity assaulted my nostrils as I carefully and quickly made my journey down to the ground level. It was night time, I should mention at this point, and everything was shaded in the dark, melting into the walls and ground around me. I had tried to be quiet, I really had, but my old clumsy nature that had once been long gone came back with a hateful vengeance: as I dropped down from the ladder of the fire escape, I landed with a painful clatter on a pile of metal and plastic trash bins. The noise echoed in the alley, and I knew that people around the city must have heard it.

Painfully and quickly rising to my feet, I sprinted out of the alley without bothering a glance back at the crappy motel I had begun to call home. That was the last time I saw James and Laurent, but I was not stupid enough to believe it was the last time ever that I'd encounter them. I knew, one way or another, that I cross paths with them again; near or distant future, I was unsure which.

* * *

I was finally pulled out of my thoughts as I found myself outside my current home, also known as the Kings Inn. It wasn't anything much at all, but it was a whole hell of a lot nicer than the dump I used to reside at. At least this one was cockroach and pest free. Well, at least from what I have seen. And the room service is decent and cheap as well, which is an added bonus, of course.

As I made my way up to my room on the third floor, I took the stairs as I usually door. I always opt for stairs as opposed to elevators, mainly because I'm a bit claustrophobic, but also because they make me feel light headed. I could always use the added exercise to my day by using stairs any way. Once in front of my door, I slid the key card through the slot and was met by a flashing red light. Thinking maybe I was at the wrong room, I looked up to see the number: 3101. My brows pulled together high on my forehead as I looked on in confusion. This was my room, I knew it; I'd been coming here every day for the past three weeks or so, after all.

Deciding to give it another try, I slid the card through the slot once again and was met by a flashing red light for the second time. Getting frustrated, I tried this about five more times before I deemed it absolutely necessary to go to the lobby and ask them what the deal was with the card. Maybe the excessive usage had worn down the bar code. Stuff like that happens all the time, I really shouldn't be worrying as much as I am.

Down in the lobby, I was met by the middle-aged, balding receptionist, Lou, who was occupying himself by eating chips and watching his potable television.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Lou, but there seems to be an issue with my card," I said politely as I approached the desk and placed my key card on the counter top. "When I slide it through the lock, it flashes red."

Lou looked at me and faltered as he shut off his television and placed the bag of chips on the chair beside him. His face looked firm and slack at the same time, and I could see every one of the pocks and crevices on his slightly tanned face. He cleared his throat. "We tried calling you all day, Miss Swan," he said as he shook his head.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Calling me? On my room phone?" I asked this simply because I did not have a cell phone.

Lou nodded. "And work phone too, but no one seemed to be there to answer."

I looked at him oddly and turned my head. "Why, exactly, were you trying to call me? And why isn't my room key working?" My voice was getting a bit shaky as I asked this; I knew where this was headed, but I hoped I was wrong.

Lou sighed and ran a hand through his thin dark hair. "We have a policy here, Miss Swan, that guest are only allowed to stay here for one week. We've extended your stay, but I'm afraid we cannot do that any longer. We've had your belongings packed and everything seems to be in order. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," as Lou said this, he reached down and grabbed the handle of my suitcase and wheeled it around to me. "There is a payphone outside if you need to call anybody," he said, "on me," he placed two quarters on the desk and smiled sadly.

I sputtered and shook my head. "No, no, you can't do this! I'll just buy another room, would that help? You can't kick me out like this, just when things are getting better!" I begged him as I pushed the quarters back towards him. "Please," I pleaded softly.

Pushing the quarters forcefully into my hands, Lou shut his eyes and sighed heavily once more. "I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but this is a hotel, not a homeless shelter. Leave before I am forced to call security." The look on his face showed how much he did not want to resort to that, so I complied with a nod.

"Okay… well, thank you for the stay," I said sincerely as I grabbed my suitcase and headed out to the curb. I was officially homeless.

* * *

While I was sitting on the curb, I tossed the coins endlessly in my palms, thinking about what I was going to do. I had nowhere to go and the Kings Inn was the nicest place I could afford. Downgrading would be so demoralizing at this point, after I had just begun to make money.

Suddenly, my pocket felt very heavy as my eyes widened. Slipping my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the small rectangular card that had been sitting there for two days. He had told me to call him by today with my choice and as much as I wanted to decline out of stubbornness, it seemed that I had no choice left. I bit my lip and thought over my options.

I could go back to living in crappy, pest infested side road motels, or I could work for a multi-millionaire, possibly billionaire, and start my life anew. I knew the answer, for most people, would be a no brainer, but I was not most people. I couldn't help but wonder if this was some trap. That maybe this Edward Cullen was some psychopath planning to kill me for doing him wrong. Why else would he offer me help after what I tried to do, after being known as a criminal? I know he said something about his sister, Alice, but shouldn't she hate me too?

Everything was so sketchy and surreal. I felt as though I should be being punished for my thievery, yet here I was, seemingly being rewarded with the opportunity of a lifetime.

Without another though, I rose from my place on the curb and made my way to the payphone. Placing both coins in respectively, I dialed the number printed on the card and waiting.

It rang exactly four times before anyone picked up. "Hello?" The voice that responded was male, and it was so deep that it seemed to vibrate through the phone. I stood there speechless, unsure of what to say. "Are you going to speak up or what? I'm on the other line," he snapped.

I scowled. "Yes, this is Isabella Swan. Edward Cullen gave me his card to call him today," I said, knowing somehow that those words were all I needed to say.

The voice paused. "Isabella Swan, you say?"

"Yes," I replied with an eye roll as I twirled the cord around my finger. "From… from Starbucks," I elaborated, in case he was unsure of who I was.

"Yes, yes, we know exactly who you are," he said with a growl and I shivered coolly. "Are car will be sent to your location. We have this number tracked, so stay where you are," he ordered before hanging up.

I stood by the phone for a few daunting moments before blinking and shaking my head as I headed back to my suitcase by the curb. I now sat there wondering whether or not I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

Well, I guess I would find out in less than an hour. How did this mess end up being my life? I simply sighed and waited.

* * *

**So what do you lovelies think? Are you enjoying it so far? Let me know in a quick review! Thank you to all those who did review, you mean so much to me and I love you lots for it! Thank you and I'll see you soon enough!**


End file.
